


Friend on Friend, at the End of the End

by Retro_pure_jdonica



Category: Heathers (1988), Heathers: The Musical - Murphy & O'Keefe
Genre: Alternate Universe - Heathers, Brainwashing, Dystopia, F/M, aliens- mentioned, as in it collapsed, chemtrails, illuminati- mentioned, like the government just accidentally "exposed" ;) themselves, the government made a big uh oh
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-03-19
Updated: 2018-03-30
Packaged: 2019-04-04 20:30:42
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,136
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14028156
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Retro_pure_jdonica/pseuds/Retro_pure_jdonica
Summary: After The Exposure of the American government, citizens split themselves into two main categories; those who tried to form new states and anarchists. A new and rapidly growing state is Politeia, located mainly in old Ohio, and is about to be greatly disturbed by the entrance of two new citizens.





	1. Politeia Welcomes You

“Hello, ma’am. Are you alone?” A strongly built guard asks me as he climbs off of his elevated wooden post and cautiously trails over towards me. Another man of slightly shorter stature followed a few steps behind him.

“Y-yes.” I stutter, still not used to talking to strangers in the old Ohio area. There was a developing reputation of small states in the area to be developing totalitarian and dictative ways of governing, it’s why I had remained on my own for so long once my last group had faded, but the openness and viridity of the land behind him gave me hope.

“Do you have any weapons on you?” The same man continues with his questioning. A few months ago I would have been able to truthfully tell him no, but I had been forced to become much more prepared and self-reliant when I was on my own. Although, most of that struggle came in the form of shelter and food, rarely physical protection from others, nonetheless I pulled out the decent sized pocket knife that had become a normal part of my gear and handed it over to him; a sign that I wished to start out on the right foot. Not only was I showing that I wanted help from the state by continuing to communicate with this man, I was also already showing loyalty and honesty in giving my weapon to him, two traits which had become rather commonly praised throughout the regional states.

“Thank you very much.” He nods, sliding the knife into an opening in his utility backpack. “Go get the girls.” He instructs the other man in a low voice, who still stood ever so slightly behind him. The shorter one nods, turns around, and marches back through, what I assume is, the state’s borders. The Exposure had occurred almost fifteen years ago, all of which I spent hoping from state, to kingdom, to district, so at this point I was very familiar with the typical setup. By now, I also knew what signs to look for right off the bat to see if a state appeared to be of any interest or even any good, and this place was ticking all of the boxes.

Clearly identified borders, guards, equipment, and from the looks of it, a pleasant interior. I knew all too well by now that a pleasant interior was almost the most important part of a state; unhappy citizens did not make for a calm state. From what I could see, they had also made rather decent repairs to the buildings since The Attempted Wipeout. “Welcome, ma’am, to Politeia.” The guard smiles, finally stepping out of my way so that I could get a better look into the state. In between the two short wooden and brick fences that outlined the perimeter of the state and stretched out to the sides as far as I could see was a large clay slab with the word Politeia carved into its surface.

“Politeia?” I state as more of a question, being very unfamiliar with the word. It didn’t sound like English, but I wasn’t able to recognize what other language it may have been.

“These fine young ladies will explain everything to you.” He explains leading me inside the border and over toward the other guard who had left moments ago and returned with a group of three girls who all appeared to be roughly my age. A state even having some kind of welcoming committee was unheard of by me until now, so was a state having such young people run government-related jobs.

“Hello, I’m Heather, and you are?” The girl standing front and center smiles widely. Something about her aura was so intriguing, it was as if I just wanted to be around her.

“Veronica.” In reply simply, snapping out of my thoughts and going back to my regular state of alertness.

“Oh, I love that name.” The girl to her left gushes with wide eyes.

“Uh, thank you.” I smile back awkwardly. “And you are?” I ask her, attempting to learn all of their names.

“I’m Heather.” She smiles, immediately confusing me.

“But I thought that she was…” I trail off, point at the girl in the middle.

“I’m Heather Chandler,” The girl in the middle begins. “This is Heather McNamara,” she points to the girl I had just spoken to. “And this is Heather Duke.” she finishes, motioning to the girl on her right. “We are the welcoming committee of subdivision B of the northwestern region of Politeia.” Heather Chandler explains, and a question immediately drifts into my head.

“Wait, subdivided regions? How big is all of Politeia?”

“As of right now, we are at about 10,000 square miles.” Heather Duke jumps into the conversation. The biggest state I had ever heard of around here was 5,000 square miles, and most were so small they didn’t even really bother to measure. Most states were trying to stay on the smaller side, at least after the spy incident in New Arizona, but I guess Politeia was taking a different approach.

“Also, why the name Politeia?” I ask, trying to narrow down my list of questions that I had been mentally forming the second the border came into my sight.

“It’s Greek for settlement, like a community. We try to use it as a way of showing off the fact that we are a democracy, contrary to the popular ruling types of the surrounding areas.” Heather Chandler explains to me and I nod along. “Well then, why don’t we start our tour?” She smiles, clapping her hands as she turns around. As she begins a steadily slow pace, I follow closely behind her. “Firstly, may I ask how old you are?”

“Seventeen, I believe,” I inform her. A calendar wasn’t exactly the type of thing most people in America had today, but some of the states I had stayed at in the past had calendars in their town squares, but now that I’ve been on my own I’ve been judging time by the weather.

“So, you were alive during The Exposure and The Attempted Wipeout?” Heather Chandler asks, to which I respond with a nod. “So one of the bombs for Ohio during The Attempted Wipeout was dropped roughly ten miles away from us, so the damage to what is now Politeia was very catastrophic. Although, we have been working on repairing the damaged buildings a lot recently, along with the help of our amazing manual labor guild, and now almost all of the buildings are in great conditions.” She explains, gesturing to the small brick buildings lining the street we walked down. My guess is that they used to be simple town shops during the time of old Ohio, and the large glass windows in the front of almost all of the buildings suggested so too.

As we walk, the streets that were once bare start to fill ever so slightly with people. Most of them were young adults, I would probably guess about mid-twenties to early thirties, with the occasional elder or child, all of whom were simply going about their business around town. Seeing people act so much like how I vaguely remember before The Exposure was strange. I was struggling between the ideas of it being comforting and it making me fearful of another collapse. “Now, follow me just down to the end of Main street and if we keep walking for just a little bit we will get out of the city so I can show you how we sort housing.” Heather Chandler explains with her seemingly everlasting smile. I follow behind the three of them for about twenty more minutes, every so often being interrupted by a citizen saying hello or a person of some form of political influence either thanking the girls or giving them some quick update.

Once we finally reach the end of Main street, we turn left onto a road with many less buildings but much more greenery and plants. “Now, these are our housing units for the subdivision of the region.” Heather Chandler comments, motioning her hand down the street. “All of these neighborhoods that you see are actually pre-existing from the Originals. We have, to make things much simpler for the government in the task of collecting taxes, assigned a certain guild to each neighborhood. The assignments were designed to fit the class and lifestyle of each guild. The best part is, initial housing is completely free. We are in the process of expanding our population so the government saw it fit to take the housing that we already had on the land and provide it to the people for free. Of course, if a family expands and has to move or purchase another house then it costs them, but that shouldn’t be a problem for you.”

“So is the land considered the governments, or yours?” I ask, silently praying that she says it belongs to us. If the government controlled the land and a corrupt leader came into power, he could claim everything as his in an instant and kick his people out onto the streets.

“It’s considered yours. Of course, it takes some paperwork and time for the name of the house to switch over from the government to you, but yes. But you have no need to worry, our current ruler, Clifford Herring, was actually one of the rebels during the time of The Exposure so he knows the kinds of precaution to take to avoid corruption.” Heather Duke jumps into the conversation. The fact that their ruler was a rebel is quite shocking, since, although they succeeded, most of the rebels were killed or imprisoned when completing The Exposure.

“Okay, that’s good, and what exactly are these guilds that you keep mentioning?” I ask the group openly.

“A guild is the term we use for each of the major sections of jobs available in Politeia. We currently have manual labor, social activities, education, domestics, specialized, and obviously political leadership, but citizens must be elected into that guild. I know this all sounds like a lot but don’t worry, we’ll take you over to town hall tomorrow to get you sorted into your guild and get you a specific job. And while we’re on the topic of jobs and economics, I’ll go ahead and let you in on a few more things. We are currently working on getting a common form of currency for the state, probably in the form of coins or paper money, but right now the government recognizes ration cards from the Period of Unrest right after The Exposure as currency. When Politeia was first formed about a year ago, we came upon a massive storehouse of ration cards and the amount of ration cards hasn’t changed since then so don’t worry, we don’t have any big problems with inflation or deflation. One ration card is about similar to what ten dollars used to be like. If you’re like me and were too young to be able to remember the worth of dollars, my rule of thumb is that a decent meal for one should cost roughly one ration card.” Heather Chandler explains to me in great detail as we walk down the street.

“Thank you,” I speak up in the conversation. Everything was all very overwhelming at the moment, so I hadn’t been speaking very much, at least not in comparison to Heather.

“Of course. Now, the sun is starting to set so I assume you’re probably getting hungry. We have a few restaurants back down on Main street, and trust me it’s quite safe to stay out a little bit past sundown, but let me show you to your house first.” Heather Chandler finishes up her massive explanation of the most basic aspects of the state before continuing our walk down the street. “This neighborhood,” Heather starts up once more as we walk through the entrance of one of the smallest neighborhoods on the street. “Is assigned to people who aren’t physically or mentally able to work. We also use it when housing new people who haven’t been sorted into guilds yet.” She continues. The group halts for a second as Heather Chandler removes her backpack and shuffles through it to find a large plastic box and a small yet thick envelope. “Here are the keys to 207 Forrest Lane, the street that we’re on right now. I believe it should be just up the road.” Heather explains, handing me a keyring with a single key on it from the plastic box. “And, on behalf of the state, here are five ration cards to last you until you get sorted into your guild. Jobs pay daily, and you’ll be sorted by tomorrow, so they’re pretty much just to get you a meal or two and some financial… comfort.” She smiles once more as she slides her backpack back on.

“Thank you, again.” I smile, clutching the keys and cards in my hand.

“Of course. Politeia welcomes you.”


	2. The Sorting

I wake up the next morning to bright sunlight spilling in through my half-closed blinds. I walk over to the window and assume by the busy streets and sun positioning that it was around eight or nine in the morning. Not having fully explored the house I was temporarily assigned to yesterday, I decide to wander around for a bit as I wait for the girls to arrive. Yesterday Heather Chandler mentioned that by today I would be sorted into my guild, so I assumed that meant that they would come get me. If they take too long and I get hungry, I could always find something to write a note on and leave it hanging on the front door if I go back down to Main street to get food.

As I mindlessly wander around the house, looking into small rooms and cabinets, I begin to realize how quickly I had been welcomed into the state. They just let me in; no screening, no waiting, no examination, no nothing. At all of the other states I had encountered, which were numerous by now, there had been some long process where I was kept in cramped living quarters before being allowed to roam. They also typically took my stuff to either search for other weapons or to take away from me for good. Many states just downright rejected me.

They see people like me, the majority of the population, as some form of threat. Since we hop from state to state, they see us as disloyal or barbaric, unable to form bonds. Although, hopping from state to state is what we had to do. Ever since the initial Exposure and the collapse of the US government, no state that I had encountered had stayed stable for more than two years. I guess Politeia really did want to expand and take in more citizens.

My train of thought was soon interrupted by the high pitched sound of a doorbell echoing throughout the large, almost empty house. I saunter from the kitchen towards the small, wooden door. Upon answering the ring, I am unsurprisingly greeted by the three girls I had met yesterday.

“Hello, Veronica, are you ready to pick your job?” Heather Chandler asks me, her familiar cheerful voice raising my spirits.

“Sure,” I reply with a soft smile, stepping out onto the porch and following the three down the street. Now that I wasn’t being bombarded with information like I was yesterday, I take the time to truly examine my surroundings.

At first glance, Politeia looked very similar to many other states I had lived in before, at least before riots when the states were collapsing. Most states were formed a respectable distance from the bomb sites of The Attempted Wipeout, since it would be pointless to try to completely rebuild a city when there were other cities that were still in tact, so only a few of the buildings had major structural defects. No house or building was perfect; many had shattered or missing windows, broken fences surrounding them, or some damage to the roofing, although most of it was cosmetic. Yesterday Heather told me that the damage was catastrophic, but that appeared to be somewhat of an over exaggeration, possibly to make it seem as if the state overall has high standards. As we began to transition from the neighborhoods to Main street, the attempt at complete restoration became much for prominent.

Making glass was still a struggle, so many of the holes where windows once were had metal bars lining in them to prevent thievery. Once we approached the Town Hall building, it was made very obvious that the Town Hall was the focus of the entire subdivision. The clean and smooth exterior walls decorated with landscape and flower paintings and the sturdy wooden doors created a welcoming demeanor, and the charts and documents mounted to the front of the building, informing the common citizens on upcoming events, suggested order and stability; all of these were qualities that other states thrived to possess.

“So, this is our town hall for the northwest subdivision B of Politeia.” Heather Chandler comments as we enter through the large, heavy doors. “If you will follow me, the Occupation Wing is just down this hallway.” She instructs, and I do as told, as the soft muffled sound of our worn out shoes dragging against the cold stone flooring follows us as we walk.

“As we mentioned yesterday, there are six different major guilds as of right now; manual labor, social activities, education, domestic, speciality, and government positions, but as Heather also mentioned you have to be elected into that guild.” Heather Duke reminds me as we enter a large room with intimidatingly high ceilings, filing cabinets and workers at desks lining the barren walls. “Do you have any ideas as to which one you may be interested in, or do you want us to walk you through them a little bit more?”

I take a moment to ponder my options. I almost immediately ruled out manual labor and speciality; I was never very strong nor was I very crafty in the way that would be of value to the state, such as textiles or cooking. Education seemed very intriguing, and I have had past experience in teaching in other states. In fact, at the state I had just left about a week ago, Canora, I was an assistant at a foster home. I wasn’t around long enough to see a single child be adopted, and many of them died or were left behind when the state fell. “Could you tell me a little bit more about the education guild?”

“I think we can let Mac handle that one.” Heather Duke smiles, and I assume that she’s referencing Heather McNamara.

“Yes, I’m Heather McNamara, by the way.” She speaks up for the first time today, beginning to lead me over to a certain area. Leaving the other two behind. “So, with us being the welcoming committee of our subdivision, and rather high up in ranking for the social activities guild to, we all oversee another guild. I oversee education, while Heather Chandler has the domestic guild, also she’s highest ranking in the entire social activities guild for our subdivision,” She adds on once we’re completely out of earshot. “And Heather Duke has speciality. We currently offer free schooling, the older teachers have told me that it’s pretty much like what the term public schooling referred to back before The Exposure, for children aged four to twelve. We mainly focus on history, reading, and some theories and practices of survival. Do you have any past experience with education?”

“Not particularly education, but I have worked in foster care before.” I inform her as we approach a large filing cabinet and bookshelf under a hanging sign that read “education”.

“That’s great, but, if you don’t mind me speaking up, may I make a suggestion?” Heater asks kindly, a well-known caution in her voice.

“Of course.”

“I know that I don’t know you too well, but based off of how you present yourself, and the fact that I’ve already taken on somewhat of a liking for you, may I suggest looking into the social activities guild? You have a kind face and a very welcoming demeanor, and we’ve actually been looking for a fourth member of our welcoming committee. So, people just starting in the social activities guild typically have to take a few days of training first, but if it’s alright with you I could go ask Heather Chandler if she thinks you would be fit for the committee, and if she does you could just shadow us today and be on the job by tomorrow.” Heather explains to me, an offer which I am quick to jump on. This is my first official day here and I’m already offered a job rather high up the food chain that typically requires training, which is an absurdly generous offer.

“That sounds wonderful.” I smile, a small laugh trailing through my words.

“Great. I’ll go talk to Heather, but we will have to sort out some paperwork and right a statement saying that you will have an immediate jump up without the prerequisites, but it shouldn’t take any more than an hour. Also, I probably shouldn’t be telling you this, but after we dropped you off near your house yesterday the group discussed you a little bit and the other two seemed to really like you too, so your chance of acceptance is rather high.” She informs me, raising my hopes and getting me more excited by the second.

“Thank you so much for this, all of it.” I praise her once again, not even knowing how to respond to such a kind act.

“Of course, and while you’re waiting maybe you could have a walk around town, get to know the surroundings better.” Heather suggests and I nod along before leaving the town hall building whilst the others discuss my future. I take Heather’s suggestion to heart and decide to spend my time trailing around town, but staying close enough so that I’m easy to find once they decide if I’ll be accepted or not.

For being in such close proximity to a bomb drop spot during The Attempted Wipeout, Politeia sure was in good condition. Many windows of buildings were still in tact, you could see clear spots on buildings where they were patched up, and the streets themselves were kept clean. There were a multitude of trees sprouting up in empty grassy areas, but despite the chilly autumn wind there weren’t any dead leaves in the streets. At the cross section of Main street and Chrysanthemum, the street which the many neighborhoods fell on, there was a small park where a few children were at play, accompanied by their parents. There was only a single metal slide, but plenty of open land for exploration. As I begin to walk back down Chrysanthemum to examine the other neighborhoods, I notice a turn onto another street in the distance. It was too far of a walk to be back in time to hear the girls’ decision, but definitely on the table as a choice for future exploration.

As I reach about halfway down the road, it becomes very clear that the farther down you go, the better the houses get. The houses in my current neighborhood were all one story tall, and their original facades were dull, grey and brown bricks. Those were in great contrasts to the other neighborhoods, whose streets were lined with large two-story homes with extravagant front porches and smooth exteriors painted in light, fun colors. Some of the houses were decorated with white shutters or gingerbread trimmings.

After my short wander, I decide to turn back around to get closer to the Town Hall building. If they come out looking for me, I wish to be close enough to hear my name being called. Not any more than five minutes after sitting down on an old wooden bench on the porch of the town hall, Heather Chandler walks out of the large, wooden doors. “Congratulations, Veronica Sawyer, you are now the fourth addition to the welcoming committee of the northwest district of Politeia, subdivision B.” She smiles as she walks over to me.

“That’s amazing, thank you so much!” I express my gratitude, smiling widely.

“Of course. We’ll spend the rest of the day reviewing some of the state’s history and doing some shadowing, but by tomorrow you should be properly up and running on the job.” Heather explains to me, her crystal blue eyes making her energy all the more alluring.

“Well then, what are we waiting for?”


End file.
